


Two Parts of America

by Mask_of_Brutality



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smart America (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 11:52:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16017338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mask_of_Brutality/pseuds/Mask_of_Brutality
Summary: Ever since the incident in his youth, America has had a possessive and loving personality, Allen Jones there to protect him from the nations' cruelty and insults. But when the other nations are stuck with America who has to fight to protect them from the threat within him. However, what would if their words are too harsh and America cracks? Slash B/B.





	1. Chapter 1

“Allen speaking”  
America speaking to Allen  
“Speech”  
‘Thinking’

America, also known as the amazing Alfred F. Jones, was laying on his American flag bedspread, eagle-spread as he stared up at his ceiling. His usually clear sky blue eyes hidden by glasses that laid by his side, were slightly unfocused as if in deep thought, covered by his messy wheat blonde hair. It was late, almost midnight and the air was that of a typical hot summer night in Virginia within his self-built Victorian style house.

“Alfred, go to sleep already. You know that the last day for the world meeting is tomorrow, right? I don’t want any fatigue causing chinks in your armor.” a smooth Southern accent whispered across America’s mind.

The American pouted as he moved restlessly against his bedsheet. “But I’m not tired at all, I have too much energy to sleep.”

“Oh. Well, I know of something great to get rid of all that extra energy. Come over here for the night; it’s boring right now, and you know nothing good happens when I’m bored.” the voice said as America rolled off his bed.

“Yeah I know, but it sounds more like you miss me and want me by your side. That or you really want to fuck.”

“Ah, you know me too well Alfie, so get your ass over here so I can relieve you of some of that energy.”

America laughed softly as he walked down the long hallway to the door at the end and slipped inside, the soft click echoing throughout the empty house. There was a low hum, a glow of white light, and all was silent once again.

_________________________________(Next Day)___________________________________

Walking down the hallway to the world meeting, held this year in New York, America did a last-minute check on his fake persona.

“Notes with nonsense ideas and doodles?”

“Check.”

“Messy suit with bomber jacket?” 

“Looks ugly and hides that hot body, but check.”

“Shake and bag of burgers?”

“Check and check. Alfie, you know if you just give up on these nations and let me take charge, we can make sure they don’t underestimate you or put you down ever again. You wouldn’t have to keep up this ridiculous fraud any longer.”

“You know I can’t do that Al, I have to show the idiots a stupid, annoying, hero mask so they don’t freak out about our actual intelligence and get in the way of our carefully created plans. Letting them acknowledge me as a world power is one thing, but if they knew I had the intelligence to back it up, all that hard work would be for nothing. Besides, we’re already slightly weakened from the economic issues we’ve been dealing with.”

“At least admit that we’d kick ass if we had to blow our cover.”

“Statistics and numerous calculations show us having a high chance of success, so sure.” America sighed as he continued speed walking towards the meeting room.

If one was to pass by America in the hallway, they would be slightly disturbed at the sight of a hallucinating or insane American talking to thin air. In actuality, the personification of the United States of America has a severe and mutated form of Dissociative Identity Disorder. Ever since a certain incident in America’s childhood, his other personality, Allen or Al for short, was born and took care of America through any means necessary except for possessing America’s body without permission. 

“Hurry up, you’re already fifteen minutes late from our usual ten minute late arrival.” 

America growled as he got closer to the meeting room, already starting to hear the normal loud yells and fights breaking between nations.

“I wouldn’t be late if someone hadn’t decided to have their way with me while I was getting ready for the meeting. Especially when they know I like to cuddle post sex.”

“Well that someone better fuck off ‘cause no one touches what’s mine, and you Alfie, belong to me.”

“I’d hope I belonged to you. You’re all that I want and you know that. As if I’d ever let anyone get as close and intimate with me but you.”

“What about Canada?” growled Allen jealousy. “He’s seen under your mask and what you lies beneath it. So does England, except he’s too much of an ass to truly care about you, despite his ridiculous infatuation with you.”

“I’ve only allowed both of them to see what I want them to see, and no one will ever truly get close. I can’t trust any of them. Now stop getting jealous and be quiet, it’s showtime and I need total concentration for my marvelous acting skills.”

Feeling Al’s mental eye-roll at his dramatics, the American took one final glance at his appearance before bursting through the meeting room, slamming the heavy wooden doors into the walls.

“Hey you guys! Sorry I’m late, but the hero has arrived. The awesome Mickey D’s took longer than expected, but I'm here now.” hollered America walking towards his seat with a wide grin, already biting into one of the many, many burgers in his bag.

“Bloody wanker, next time just skip getting that heart disease you call food and get here on time, especially when you’re supposed to host the damn meeting!” yelled a red faced England to America. “We’ve already had to delay this meeting because of you, and some of us need to go to urgent business to deal with right after this so hurry and get this meeting started!”

_________________________________(line break)___________________________________

“...and so, by building this giant robot, we can stop pollution and finally achieve world peace! Great idea right? Of course it is, I came up with it ‘cause I’m the hero! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!”

“Robots, that sounds like a kickass plan, where on earth are ya getting such wonderful ideas Alfie?”

“From my ass, since I’m not supposed to say anything intelligent. I wish I didn’t have to spew this crap, but since they don’t expect anything smart or useful from me, they just tune out whatever I say and argue with each other. Even when I won the Cold War, they all thought it was sheer dumb luck, including Russia, the commie bastard.”

“That’s ‘cause their asses like new trendy hats. But don’t worry about it, because I know how smart you truly are, and that’s all you need.”

“America, are you even paying attention to this meeting anymore?” barked a very irritated Germany. He had spent the last four hours listening to other nations argue and not get anything done (again) while trying to get them accomplish something for once, all while dealing with Italy clinging onto his arms yattering about pasta, which caused Romano begin yelling and calling him a potato bastard (again). Sighing when it appeared that the American still wasn’t paying attention to the meeting (honestly no one was paying any attention), Germany felt a vein in his forehead throb dangerously.

“ALL RIGHT! EVERYBODY SHUT UP AND LEAVE. WE AREN’T GETTING ANYTHING ACCOMPLISHED AT ALL, SO IF YOU HAVE PROBLEMS, BRING THEM UP AT THE NEXT MEETING. WITHOUT THE FIGHTING!” Germany finally yelled as he slammed his hands on the table, red in the face.

As the nations all packed up their notes and started leaving in groups out the conference room, Germany called for England, France, China, America, Russia, Japan, and N. Italy on order of all their bosses.

“Ah, I remember my boss did have important new to give to me, aru. Though I didn’t know it involved the childish nations, aru. Come sit by me Japan, away from these crazy Western nations, aru.” called out a smiling China to his former colony.

“Ah, no thank you China. I would like to sit right here.” Japan said, as polite as ever as he tried to avoid a now depressed and clingy China.

Once all the requested nations gathered and the room was swept twice for stray nations (aka Sealand or Prussia) and possible listening or recording devices (planted by Prussia), the impromptu meeting began.

“Mon ami, what on earth is this meeting for anyway.” said France as he started to grope a blushing England, who then promptly sent a fist into the Frenchman’s face while hollering about perverted frogs keeping their hands to themselves.

“Our bosses are here, so everybody shall be quiet now, da?” spoke a creepily smiling Russia as he watched all of their bosses entering through the door.

“We have very big, important news to give that we wanted to get over with all at once instead of individual meetings that affect all of you. Due to threat of ‘Personification Secrecy’ and some internal and economical problems all over the world, including Europe and Asia, most of the world leaders have decided to put their nations’ personifications into hiding.” one boss started off.

“However, some of our locations including everyone here but America’s locations have been compromised and thus we’ve moved to our last option. America’s boss was willing to let those here to stay with America in their location as it can accommodate many for long periods of time until we can terminate the threats.” another boss continued.

“So, have fun being together for an undetermined time starting at the end of this week, and you all must agree to be at least civil with each other and have no cause to go to war once this situation is over. Goodbye!” finished another boss, and all headed out, all mentally calculating the possible scenarios and bills from property damage, while also slightly snickering at the situation their troublesome nations were now in. 

Inside the room was a stunned silence surrounding the shocked nations at the latest revelation that they’re bosses just dropped.

“WHAT??” 

“Oh fuck.”


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Hetalia: Axis Powers belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya

(A/N: When it’s just Allen and America, I’ll refer to America as Alfred to try avoiding as much confusion as possible. Also, I accidentally said that there was eight nations, it was seven, sorry. Enjoy!)

“Allen speaking mentally”  
“America speaking to Allen mentally”  
“Speech”  
‘Thinking’

 

Last in TPA:  
“So, have fun being together for an undetermined time starting at the end of this week, and you all must agree to be at least civil with each other and have no cause to go to war once this situation is over. Goodbye!” finished another boss, and all headed out, all mentally calculating the possible scenarios and bills from property damage, while also slightly snickering at the situation their troublesome nations were now in. 

Inside the room was a stunned silence surrounding the shocked nations at the latest revelation that they’re bosses just dropped.

“WHAT??” 

“Oh fuck.”  
_____

“Ugh. Dammit Allen, shut up for five minutes! You’re giving me a fucking migraine.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Alfred, you poor thing.” snarked a very irritated Allen.“ “Maybe if you would stop ignoring me and deal with this problem, then maybe your head wouldn’t hurt.”

“It’s not like I can do anything anyway. Bastard.” muttered Alfred as he laid down on his couch where he’d been arguing with Allen for the past fifteen minutes

“I heard that. And come over here through the portal, not mentally, you know mental communicating is pointless nowadays.”

Ignoring Allen, Alfred closed his eyes as he instinctively cleared his mind and dove deeper into his subconscious until he opened his eyes again and found himself in a large grassy clearing surrounded by the forests of their childhood when it was still untouched by the foreigners. He walked to the edge of the clearing where a little log cabin was hidden in the shade of the clearing. 

Entering the tiny cabin, he found himself in a long neverending metal hallway lit by fluorescent lights with numbered doors all the way down, though he barely glanced at this and opened the first door on his left.

Upon entering the darkly lit room, Alfred was harshly grabbed by his shirt collar and slammed into the cold metal wall by Allen. Before he could regain his breath back, a hungry pair of lips descended and promptly ravaged his mouth while roaming hands slowly started to lower down to the hem of his shirt. Groaning in pleasure, the shorter of the two kissed back and they both fought back and forth for dominance before Alfred surrendered and began rolling his hips against Allen, desperate for friction.

“Al... stop it, we need to- we need to talk..so I can finish preparing...for the ei-eight nations arriving today.” moaned America as Al bit hard on Alfred’s bottom lip, breaking through skin and tasting the sweet salty taste of his own blood.

Al froze and started growling, stopping all his and Alfred’s movement in light of this new revelation as he glared at the nation below him.

“What do you mean eight nations? There’s only supposed to be seven nations coming!” an angry Allen hissed, maroon eyes narrowed threateningly at Alfred.

Alfred held back a whine at the lack of stimulation to his nether regions as he tried to regain awareness of what was going on.

“America!”

Shocked at the use of his nation name, Alfred grinned sheepishly up at Allen (who was half a head taller than him, how’s that fair!) as he replied, “Well, after the bosses started leaving the meeting and you weren’t paying attention due to screaming in your corner, Toris’s boss offered to send him to help.” 

Seeing no response or expression, Alfred rambled on nervously. “Because he’s lived with us before and I said sure why not, because I didn’t think you had a problem with Toris and so probably wouldn’t mind, and since you didn’t say anything, and-”

“Shut up.”

Alfred’s jaw snapped shut as he glanced up into the dark maroon eyes set in a face so similar to his, yet still vastly different from his own. A face that he watched change and grow with him, but always seemed more older and wiser than his, and slightly darker.

Allen Jones was an almost carbon copy of Alfred, if Alfred was a solid 6 feet (182 cm) instead of 5 foot 9 (177 cm), had darker blond hair that was a mix of Alfred’s own style and his brother Canada. His eyes were a dark maroon and usually filled with amusement, affection, love, or most of the time, lust. Now however, they were unreadable as they glanced down at the squirming blonde trapped between his arms. Allen moved his hand, placing it on top of Alfred’s head, frowning when Alfred flinched and glanced up curiously and with a hint of fear.

“I’m sorry Allen, I meant to let you know because you already don’t like the other nations. I know you see this as an intrusion of our home and privacy, especially with England coming and it’ll only make that anger and hatred since the incident worse. But, we can look at this as a chance to find and exploit their weaknesses for emergency and blackmail purposes….I’m sorry.”

“Alfred, have you already forgotten that promise I made to you after we first met?” whispered Allen.

“Of course I remember! You protected me and promised to always stay by my side no matter what, even when everyone else left and hated me. You’re the only reason I haven’t lost my sanity like Russia. You keep me human though I’m a nation and accept all of me, even the horrible things.” Alfred spoke determinedly, glaring up at Allen with a fiery passion in his blazing blue eyes while Allen stood there smirking.

He suddenly bent down again to catch Alfred’s lips in a searing kiss, nearly groaning at the small whimper America made while tasted the sweetness of Alfred’s mouth, playfully nudging the native tongue inside to dance. Their tongues met in a familiar synch and rhythm as Alfred wrapped his arms around Allen’s neck and hiked one leg onto Allen’s hip, while Allen wrapped the lighter blond in his arms as close as he could, deepening the kiss even more. Allen broke away first before tugging Alfred’s tongue into his mouth and sucking on it as though it was a succulent sweet, eliciting the most wonderful moans and whimpers from his little blond, though they were slightly muffled.

When they finally broke away again for much needed air, Alfred looked ready to jump onto the nearest flat surface and get pounded, cheeks flushed with excitement, eyes darkened almost black with lust and desire, and pouty red lips that were starting to go back to their normal color, and the split on his lip from their earlier kiss was gone, like it was never there. 

As Alfred was about to pounce on Allen for something stronger than kissing, Allen backed away with a smile. “Oh no you don’t Alfie, don’t you still have cleaning up to do?,” smirking at the cute pout his little Alfie gave him.

Striding away towards the middle of the room, Allen dramatically spoke as he knew it irritated Alfred. “There, there, I actually have a great idea. If you hurry up and finish cleaning, I’ll give you a special chocolate treat when you come back, through the portal this time though, because I really hate mental connection. It’s not as real.”

However, when he turned around for Alfred’s answer, all that greeted him was an empty room and the fading of Alfred’s subconscious presence while his conscious thoughts rose. He smirked at the speed in which Alfred obviously wanted his special treat in his haste to finish cleaning.

Exiting the room he was in, he walked down the long hallway almost aimlessly before coming to an abrupt stop in from of a seemingly random door, which upon opening showed a room lit only with the glow of the hundred computer screens inside. As Allen entered the room, he also was faced with thousands of pictures of his Alfred, at random stages and times of their life, and if one were to be in the room watching Allen, they would have shuddered at the possessiveness and insanity on his face, not at all reassured by the love and almost obsessive admiration seen in Allen’s eyes when he looked at the pictures of his Alfred. 

Glancing at the computer screens, Allen smiled deviously as he watched the information on the screen flash by with information that he did NOT want Alfred to know about, at least, not until he was properly convinced that the rest of the world could be scum at his feet if he’d let Allen loose.  
“Soon Alfie, nobody will dare hurt you and they’ll know exactly why not to touch what’s mine. The whole world will cower at out feet, and you’ll get the admiration that you’ve always deserved, without the masks.”


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Hetalia: Axis Powers belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya except for my OCs.

“Allen speaking”  
America speaking to Allen  
“Speech”  
‘Thinking’

Last in TPA:  
Glancing at the computer screens, Allen smiled deviously as he watched the information on the screen flash by with information that he did NOT want Alfred to know about, at least, not until he was properly convinced that the rest of the world could be scum at his feet if he’d let Allen loose.  
“Soon Alfie, nobody will dare hurt you and they’ll know exactly why not to touch what’s mine. The whole world will cower at out feet, and you’ll get the admiration that you’ve always deserved, without the masks.”  
___

Japan was not very happy when he and the rest of the nations finally arrived in the airport, though of course, no one could even tell that he was irritated just by looking at his blank face, especially considering they were all irritated as well. Spending a twenty-two hour flight is bad enough already, but the fact that Japan was the one who had to fly over Europe to pick the remaining nations that were coming, then flying over the Atlantic to America was even worse, especially since they weren’t allowed to use private jets to avoid suspicion. Not only did poor Japan have to deal with seven nations who were admittedly doing their best to attract as much attention to themselves as possible, except perhaps for Lithuania who was doing his best to stay calm despite his terror at being so close to Russia.

Italy had been whining and complaining about how bad the pasta on the airport was and then tried to cook pasta during the flight, causing Germany to get very irritated and start yelling very loudly at Italy, causing all the babies and small pets on board to start making noise as well. England and France were fighting again, well England was fighting and France was half fighting and half flirting with every flight attendant that came nearby, which meant soon none of the flight attendants went near them, even the male attendants. China was still trying to offer Chinese cuisine to get everyone to be quiet while still trying to avoid a creepily smiling Russia who somehow managed to sneak a panda suit on the the plane just to stalk China while Lithuania seemed to be hyperventilating in a corner.

Once they finally landed and were told in no uncertain terms to never use that airline again, a call to America showed that their lovely host had forgotten to pick them up and thus forced the nations to endure a forty minute battle between England and the lady at the car rental service at the airport before they finally found a van barely big enough to fit all of them and their luggage inside. On the long half hour trip to America’s house, all the nations were forced to endure England’s irritating rant on the irresponsibility of America, ‘how horrible a host he was, and how none of this behavior would have happened if America had just stayed his good little colony.’ Needless to say, England then started wailing while driving and drove on the wrong side of the road before being forced to stop by Germany who took over.

By the time they finally pulled off the interstate to the road leading to America, everyone was even more irritated than before, and Russia started emitting his purple aura, causing everyone to pale and shove each other in desperation to get away from the intimidating nation. Japan, though slightly affected, decided to ignore everyone and just look at the scenery flashing by. Though it was not as wonderful as his own nation’s beauty, he couldn’t help but admire the green grass fields and summer blue sky with barely a cloud in sight, and Japan was surprised at how a beautiful land could be the annoying, disrespectful, irritating nation that he was ‘friends’ with. Though he hung out with America and traded video games and movies with the blond, he was getting annoyed with how the American’s culture was immersing itself in his own, making his citizens abandon their Japanese roots and traditions for Western culture.

Finally as the road became smaller and started winding up a large hill, Lithuania smiled at the familiar sight from when he worked with Mr. America for a while. Lithuania thought it was very nice of Mr. America to open up his home for his fellow nations, especially considering how much of a private person Mr. America actually is. Oh yes, Lithuania knew of the carefully made facade Mr. America presented to everyone, it’s hard to not know that when living with someone for a while, and while he worries for Mr. America and his need to hide his true self from everyone, Lithuania truly hoped that maybe this forced living arrangement with everyone will get everyone to know the real Mr. America, and abate some of the loneliness he’d seen in the younger nation, as well as some of the slight insanity in the gleam of his eyes. Insanity in a nation is inevitable, no matter how humane the nation, they live always and have seen the worst and best of humanity so they’re expected to lose some sanity. But, going as far as Russia when he was the Soviet Union, totally cracked without a shred of morality or consciousness, was always followed by deadly consequences, as seen with the fall of the Soviet Union and Lithuania did not want that to happen to Mr. America, the young nation that had risen so fast that he was envied by all.

Nearing the top of the hill, they finally got their first look at America’s house, a tall two story navy blue Victorian-style building with cream white trimming and a deep front porch surrounding the entire house; which was surrounded by a grove of trees like a submersed nature glade. Off a couple hundred feet was another building made of Plexiglass ©®, though the interior of the building was too far away to be seen clearly, thus the nations ignored it. Leading up to the house was a gravel driveway with a silver Maserati already parked in the corner.

“It’s not that bad, better than I expected without any American ‘superiority’ like I’d thought it’d have,” scowled England “but in my personal opinion I think it’s a waste of space and flaunting his ‘wide, open, free’ space.”

“Ah, too bad no one wanted your personal opinion silly England, da?” asked a smiling Russia as he ignored everyone and got out of the van when it stopped and walked (read: stalked) across the lawn to America’s front door, leaving the cowering nations to gather the luggage and trudge behind. From a safe distance of course. 

As they all gathered around on America’s porch after ringing the surprisingly pleasant doorbell chime, they heard a thudding of feet running towards the door and a rather high pitched, child’s voice screaming that they’d get the door to someone inside the house. Looking at each other in surprise, they watched as the door opened to reveal a little girl of about ten cheerfully smiling at them. She had a sleek mane of dark burnt red hair in a simple braid that ended mid-back, with a few locks loosened to frame her sweet delicate face. The little girl had a slim pixy-like build and wore a simple white t-shirt with a butterfly on it and light brown khaki shorts. All in all she looked like an adorable child, except for her eyes. They were beautiful yet unsettling monochromatic eyes, with one as sky blue as America’s, and the other a dark maroon, reminiscent to blood that sparkled out of her delicate, slightly tanned face.

“Hello, my name’s Angel, are you the guys that Pa- Mister Alfred’s waiting for?” said the little girl sweetly to Russia, who no longer was mad but smiled cheerfully at the child.

“Da, that is us, little one, nice to meet you.” 

Angel laughed in delight “You sound funny, mister, but please come inside, Mister Alfred’s been workin’ really hard to make dinner tonight.” She opened the door wider, and with a beckoning motion, walked deeper into the house hallway.

The slightly puzzled nations exchanged glances before walking inside the dimly lit hallway of America’s home.Walking down the hallway led to a small greeting room where they were told to put their luggage aside to be gathered later. The room was very plain and simple, cream colored walls and white wooden flooring with dark cream highlighting the room. They were then led into what they presumed to be the living room and were unsurprised by the very modern living room, with no sign of America.

The huge living room walls were a soothing aquamarine shade with intricate circles engraved deeply into the wall, giving an illusion that the room was larger than it actually was, though the room itself was still rather large. In fact, many parts of the room were set up in the style of illusions and almost everything was done in shades of blue or white. The giant blue couch centered in the middle of the room facing to their right probably had enough room for a grizzly bear to lie comfortably on, with over a dozen soft blue and white fuzzy throw pillows scattered on top. In front of the couch was a long oval steel coffee table painted a dazzling shade of metallic white with a few abstract designed coasters placed on the table, matching the two smaller, though similarly shaped tables on either side of the large couch, each with a lamp atop. A widescreen TV was fixed a little over halfway up the wall facing the front of the couch and was the newest model of TVs out, meaning it had a very thin frame that was slightly curved in a semicircle if seen from the side. On the wall opposite the nations there was a large spiral staircase with the shiny white steps merely attached to the dark blue pole as it led either upstairs or downstairs. There were also a few pictures on the walls, none with people, but merely abstract pictures of underwater or space in dark blues, purples, blacks, and hints of white. A door that was left open showed to be a bathroom that though not totally visible to the others across the room, was a polar opposite of the room. On the nations’ left was two doorways with no doors leading into two rooms that were dismissed in their shocked stares at the wide bookshelf that took up the entire corner near where they were standing, filled to the brim with books of varying size and colors. England stepping a little closer, was surprised to find himself recognizing many of the books, even though some of them were in different languages, languages he was sure idiot America couldn’t possibly comprehend.

“Oh, I almost forgot but, can you guys please take off your shoes. Mr. Alfred doesn’t like dirt getting on the nice carpets in the house, especially when he visited Japan and thought the whole ‘shoes off’ idea was cool.” spoke Angel as she walked further into the room, the nations just now noticing that the child had been wearing only socks on her feet.

Japan felt a spark of pride at the comment of America following one of his ideas, lightly blushing as he toed off his shoes with long practised ease before following the girl into the living room, the slightly slower nations right behind him as they stepped on the soft pristine white carpet that looked practically brand new in its cleanliness.

A bang, thud, and America’s yelp of pain drew the nation’s to the doorways that they had previously dismissed only to see America in a blue t-shirt and dark jeans sprawled on the floor of what appeared to be his kitchen, rubbing his face to soothe the pain as he stood back up again and pressed something out of their sight, presumably a silver panel similar to the one on the wall near both doorways. As he did, the now apparent large glass panel slid smoothly and silently into the wall as if it was never there.

“Hey you guys, glad you made it. I’m so sorry about not picking y’all up, but I was already halfway through making dinner and I couldn’t really leave Angel to finish cooking, that’d be a disaster.” stated a cheerful America. 

“No it wouldn’t! I’m a great chef and you know it.” pouted Angel while glaring at America.

“Of course sweetie, what on earth was I thinking. It’s not as if there’s a specific reason I locked all the doors leading into the kitchen while the food was cooking. Anyway, can you set up the table in the dining room while I show these guys their rooms.”

“Sure, but aren’t you gonna introduce me? It’s only polite Mr. Alfred to introduce the guests we’ll be hosting for who knows how long.” said a no longer pouting Angel, but instead smirking at the forgetfulness of America as he blushed and muttered. “You’re becoming more like him, hmph!” 

“Okay, then the short Asian dude here is Kiku Honda from Japan, he has really cool video games and anime that he brings over. The blonde girly dude...”

“Ohohon, little Amer- Alfred that wasn’t very nice.” France interrupted. 

America continued as if there wasn’t an interruption, “with the flashy clothes is Francis Bonnefoy from France and I want you to stay away from him at all costs if I’m not nearby, no matter what. The short stuffy blonde next to him is Arthur Kirkland from England. Don’t eat anything he offers you, okay sweetie? The tall blonde with the slicked hair behind them is Ludwig Beilschmidt from Germany and as long as you don’t annoy him you’ll be fine. The brunet with the twirly cowlick next to him is Feliciano Vargas from Italy and I think you two will get along just fine. The creepy Russian dude is Ivan Braginsky and I also want you to stay away from him because he is a commie bastard. The feminine Asian next to him is actually a guy named Yao Wang and he’s from China. Finally, the brunet cowering from creepy Russian is one of my good friends Toris Laurinaitis from Lithuania.”

At the blank look on her face, he elaborated on how Lithuania was a small country near Russia and the Baltic Sea and maybe they should start working on her world geography lessons again, laughing at the pout she gave in response. Meanwhile, England and China were fuming at being called short, a bad cook and feminine, respectively, Russia was starting to do his creepy kolkoling again, Italy smiled and babbled happily to Germany at the nice introduction he’d gotten. Germany, Lithuania, and Japan slightly blushed at the sort of compliment while inwardly groaning in worry at if they’d survive their stay and France, well he didn’t really care.

Seemingly unconcerned about his guests’ reactions to his words, America continued. “So now that we’ve got the introductions out the way, let me show you to your rooms, I’ll think you’ll like them, and then we’ll come down for dinner, ‘kay? Good.” As he spoke he bounded over to the staircase and starting the stairs to the floor below. Reluctantly, the other followed the American upstairs while Angel went through the other doorway, presumably to the dining room to set up for...dinner...made by America. Who was raised by England, the worst cook in the world and ate fatty, greasy foods like they tasted good.

Reaching the second floor saw more of the sparkling white carpet and instead of blue, a soft forest green covered the long hallway walls, interrupted by five solid oak doors on each side of the hall and leading to a smaller door on the other end of the hall that had a sign too far away to read perched over the knob. When all the nations gathered on the second floor, America started his impromptu tour to their rooms by pointing first to his right stating that it was his.

“To make it easier for everyone to know which rooms are which, I decided to hang your flag on the door to mark them, so to our left is England’s room. Go ahead and take a look to see if it’s to your liking Artie.”

“It’s Arthur you wanker, and I guess I’ll have to bear with your mediocre room for as long as nec..es...sary.” England stared in amazement as he further entered the room that if he didn’t know better was like one of his old fashioned rooms in his old house, done in true English style, yet still modern.

The walls were a dark green with simplistic vine patterns done in a pale white to compliment the slightly flowery tapestries adorning the wall and the almost translucent curtains framing the only window in the room. At their far left was a large canopy bed with dark emerald coverings while their light brown drawings were tightly drawn to the bedposts. There was a wardrobe against the wall with the door that had a matching dresser next to the bed on the side farthest from the nations. The only real sign that the room was modern was the small chandelier on the ceiling that, with closer examination, was obviously electric instead of candlelit.

“I didn’t decorate any of the rooms with pictures or decorations, ‘cause I didn’t really know what ya guys would like, so I left that option with you.” chuckled a nervous America, rubbing the back of his neck as he awaited England’s reaction.

Blustering in embarrassment at his open awe at the amazingly English styled room, England closed his previously open mouth and shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, it’s alright I suppose. I personally could have done a lot better than, this, but it’ll do.” 

A flash of anger flitted across America’s face but was replaced by a sheepish grin as he apologized for messing up the room.

“Eh, now I’m worried that I messed all the other rooms when I did it in your cultural style, dudes, I’m so sorry.” pouted a sad America as he trudged farther down the hall, pointing out the rooms belonging to France, China, Russia, Lithuania in that order on the left side with England’s room, and the bathroom on the right, where Germany’s, Italy’s, and Japan’s room were placed, as well as his own across from England.

“Hey America, what’s that door over there, you didn’t tell us.” said Italy, pointing out the door at the end of the hallway. Looking closely at the nondescript door that almost blended in with the wall, except for the combination keypad next to the door.

“Ah, yes. That door doesn’t concern anyone here, and so will not be opened for or by any of you during your stay. That’s actually one of the few rules that I have here that I’ll speak about after dinner, which should be ready and set up now. You can fully check your rooms and have the rest of the tour tomorrow as it’s been a long day.”

Leading back downstairs America pointed out how only the first floor had the glass doors, explaining that he didn’t want French perverts or commie bastards peeping into private rooms. Entering the kitchen, the other nations were once again awestruck by how modern and not obnoxiously American. It was themed white and black, with black marble tops on the kitchen counter and a island in the middle of the kitchen, yet instead of looking cold, the room gave off a warm and cozy feeling with the small hints of color dispersed throughout the room. The kitchen was rather clean, with only a few items in the sink with shower nozzle attached to clean dishes, and also pots and pans from the dinner they were to have.

At the sight of the empty pots and pans on the stove, most of the nations, flinched at the reminder that they’d be eating America’s food and warily followed America as they made their way through the kitchen into the dining room where they saw a rather large dining table made of polished oak wood with a place set for everyone. The walls were a buttery soft brown and with the white carpet gave off a warm feeling of being by a fireplace, ironically there was a fireplace opposite of the kitchen, though it was unlit. On the mantle above the fireplace was intricate engravings of bears, eagles, wolves, and other American woodland creatures, with an odd centerpiece of a bunny rabbit instead of the expected bald eagle.

“Hi again, nation people! You can sit anywhere except for the head of the table and my seat on its right, but if you know you’re going to fight near certain people, please don’t sit next to them for the peace of dinner.” chirped Angel as she watched all the males stumble through the doorway at her blatant reveal at her knowledge of who they truly were.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Hetalia: Axis Powers belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya except for my OCs.

“Allen speaking”  
America speaking to Allen  
“Speech”  
‘Thinking’

Last in TPA:  
At the sight of the empty pots and pans on the stove, most of the nations, flinched at the reminder that they’d be eating America’s food and warily followed America as they made their way through the kitchen into the dining room where they saw a rather large dining table made of polished oak wood with a place set for everyone. The walls were a buttery soft brown and with the white carpet gave off a warm feeling of being by a fireplace, ironically there was a fireplace opposite of the kitchen, though it was unlit. On the mantle above the fireplace was intricate engravings of bears, eagles, wolves, and other American woodland creatures, with an odd centerpiece of a bunny rabbit instead of the expected bald eagle.

“Hi again, nation people! You can sit anywhere except for the head of the table and my seat on its right, but if you know you’re going to fight near certain people, please don’t sit next to them for the peace of dinner.” chirped Angel as she watched all the males stumble through the doorway at her blatant reveal at her knowledge of who they truly were.

_________________  
“But, how,...AMERICA!!” blustered a very red, angry German as the other countries glared at America. “How does this human know our secret, nobody is supposed to know! Dummkopf!”

“Guys, it’s cool. I’ve been raising Angel since she was a baby, she was bound to find out anyway and I’m not sending her away, especially after she saw Tony so calm down.” 

“Oh.”

“Wait,” Italy interrupted ”who’s Tony again? Is he the tiger guy that makes the really odd sugary cereal you Americans love?”

“Nope, Tony’s the alien in the basement, I’ll show guys his area tomorrow, just don’t go in there or you’re liable to experimentation, especially the commie and Iggy."

"Don't call me that!"

"Stupid Amerika, don't you remember that I am no longer a communist?"

"No, I fully know you're not a commie bastard, I just don't care. Now let's eat some awesomely amazing American dinner I made, then we'll go over the rules of my house. So, here we have homemade fried chicken, buttered corn on the cob, steamed greens, mashed potatoes from scratch, freshly made biscuits ("Desserts during dinner, I thought I raised you better than that America" muttered England.), and cornbread. Also, there's hot sauce, butter, sour cream, normal gravy and white gravy, and the salt and pepper. For drinks I've got freshly squeezed lemonade, southern made sweet tea, and water."

Under the beaming gaze of the little girl, the nations traded nervous looks before they sat down with Germany, Italy, Japan, and after a brief tussle, followed with a smirking England next to Japan. On the opposite side of England sat France-

"Bloody frog, don't sit across from me!"

"Ohonhon, but what better art can there be to look upon while you dine, Angleterre?" 

-followed by China, a smiling Russia, and finally a slightly trembling Lithuania. 

"Angel, I want you to sit at the end by Germany and Lithuania. You won’t be traumatised for life by those two like you would if you sat by Iggy and France.”

“I WOULD NEVER- I thought I raised you to treat guests better than that America and STOP GIVING ME RIDICULOUS NICKNAMES!”

Totally ignoring everything, America just left and a couple minutes later returned with sweet tea for England, China, Japan, and himself, lemonade for Angel, Italy, and Lithuania, and everyone else water as they requested.

“Alright everyone, dig in!”

Without hesitation America, Angel, and Italy build their plates and started eating, followed more slowly by the rest. Once everyone’s plates had been filled, the other nations sat awkwardly and stared at their food until Germany suddenly picked up his fork and scooped up some mashed potatoes. With all eyes upon him, Germany slowly placed the forkful in his mouth before his jaw slacked in shock, eyes wide.

“I-It’s delicious!” mumbled Germany. America grinned, “Thanks, but it’d be showing real appreciation if you didn’t talk with your mouth full, right?”

Blushing bright red in embarrassment, Germany nodded and continued eating with gusto this time. Knowing that Germany tended to have good taste in food, especially meats and potatoes,the rest curiously picked up their utensils and tried the food. Following this, multiple moans and groans of delight and enjoyment accompanied by fast clinking of metal against plates made America break out into a smug smirk, replaced quickly by his signature naive smile. The rest of dinner went surprisingly quiet except for the small conversation between Lithuania and Angel and the occasional comment from Italy. The rest of the nations were slightly tense, thinking about how they’d handle their time in America’s house with a slightly different than normal America and his… child?

“Since everyone’s done with din’, I made cake for dessert, along with guidelines before you guys hit the hay and get over your jet lag.” America announced as he, Angel, and Lithuania cleared all the plates and dishes from the table before the others could think of getting up and helping clean, thus missing the pale horrified looks on everyone’s face at the mention of American cake, all remembering the horrible color explosion, teeth-rotting blue “X-mas” Christmas cake America made every Christmas since food dye was invented. To be polite, Japan and Lithuania reluctantly agreed to a slice of cake which actually turned about to be a sinful devil food cake, thick, rich, creamy, and rather mouthwatering. Even those that didn’t want the stupid American cake glanced at the plates in slight envy but refused to change their minds as the cake slices were quickly demolished in front of them.

Standing up again, America took away the empty plates before adopting a casual military stance behind his chair.

“‘Kay, since you all ate, I’ll just go over the rules before-”

“Rules? What rules?”

“I’m not doing any of your damn rules America!”

“This is ridiculous, I won’t agree to this, aru!”

“Please, BE QUIET!” yelled Angel.

“Since this is Mr. Alfred’s house, you as guests should be polite and follow the rules of your host as a common cour- cour-tesy!” Fiercely scowling (read: adorably pouting), in the way only little girls could pull off, the other nations looked away from her and nodded in acknowledgement while in the background Japan was mentally squealing of the kawaii look on the girl’s face.

“Thanks sweetie.”

America linked his hands behind his head as he surveyed the occupants with a serious expression.

“It’s only a couple of rules to help us all get along and not start World War III in my living room, ‘kay, ‘cause that would not go over well with my boss.” Hearing only grumbles throughout the room, America smiled before continuing.

“Rule number one is no physical fights in the house; take it outside or don’t fight at all, ‘cause I don’t want you scaring my darlings or damaging my stuff. Rule two is that we must take turns making meals so that just one person isn’t cooking all the time. I should have supplies for a majority of everyone’s more common native dishes, but if you need anything else, let me know when we go grocery shopping every two weeks as we’re supposed to lay low as much as possible and the closest town is a small town three miles away where everybody knows each other. Third rule is, if you haven’t already noticed that glass building outside, that is the workout building which all of you can have access to, but just to let you know, it automatically unlocks at 0530 and locks back again at 2200 hour so you can use it at any time between then to keep active. Rule four and five are the most important rules, rule four being that going down to Tony’s area without me isn’t allowed for your own safety as Tony is prone to experimentation, and the door down the hall upstairs isn’t to be opened for any reason by anyone, and no questions are to be asked about it. Lastly, rule five as an unofficial order from our bosses we are to go by out human names 24/7 from now on as we can’t allow for slip-ups of any kind.”

“America, you know as well as the rest of us know how we feel about using our human names with others, must we do it in private?”

Though they used their human names when around other humans to blend in, when it comes to using their personal human names, the only time they embrace their human side, it is considered a privilege for a nation to call another nation by their human name. Since being personifications of countries, never dying and always slightly insane, this is a major deal and never said casually or carelessly.

“It’s merely a safety precaution ‘cause we don’t know how many methods and research this group has on us or how they got this information yet. You understand, right Ludwig?” smiled America calmly. “If it makes it easier, you can just call each other by last name, it’s still not too suspicious, deal?”

“Fine.., Jones, we agree to the reasonable rules placed before us,” Germany spoke for the rest of the group. “Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I would like to settle down after a long flight in my room.”

“Oh, sure thing dudes. You guys have had a long flight and you probably need to adjust to the time zone and all that. I can finish the tour tomorrow after breakfast, so try waking up bright eyed and bushy tailed by nine.” said America as he took Angel’s hand and started to walk out the dining room until Japan called out to him. “Um, Ame-Jones-san, it seems you have some leftover chocolate on the back of your neck.”

“W-W-What? I do?” squeaked a blushing America as he slapped his hand to his neck to wipe at the chocolate, a slightly glazed look in his eyes at he stared at his hand until a tug from Angel brought him back to reality, if possible, with a bigger blush than before.

In a deceptively sweet voice, smirk unseen by the other nations, Angel looked up at the blonde. “Must have been from frosting the cake, huh Mr. Jones?”

“Yeah, hahaha, probably just got too enthusiastic when frosting,” grouched the bespectacled blonde. “Anyways, you need to sleep, so let’s go!” 

The rest of the group filed out the dining room as America carried a pouting Angel downstairs, before trudging slowly up the stairs to their rooms, jet lag starting to full hit them.

\--------------  
England closed his door behind him, relaxing slightly as he placed his suitcase on the bed, unpacking some of his clothes and placing them into the drawers and closet in the room. He would never admit it to America- Alfred-, but the room was excellently designed, almost like one of his London homes. In fact, it was so well done that England highly doubted Alfred designed any of their rooms like he claimed to have. When did that adorable colony he raise become such a liar and obnoxious git? Everyone knows the git didn’t have enough brain cells and skills to avoid making the guest rooms overly American, so he must have hired a designer and lied, that’s why he acted odd today, the git couldn’t be serious if his life depended on it, thus the false behavior. And that child. The whole point of coming to America’s house in the first place was to lay low while the rooted out and exterminated this group bent on exposing the world’s biggest secret: us, and America will be the one to blow our cover when his little American brat blabs like the little child she is, children can’t keep secrets, especially not of this magnitude.

‘Damn that irresponsible bastard, he’s going to ruin us!’ scowled England furiously as he slammed about his room going about his nightly routine.

 

\-------------  
Midnight

A lone shadow crept noiselessly down the hallway of the second floor to the end of the hall, quietly tapped a pattern by the wall, and slid as equally silent through the door that closed behind with barely a click, never noticing the sharp brown eyes that watched and analyzed from the shadows in the hall.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Hetalia: Axis Powers belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya except for my OCs.

“Allen speaking”  
America speaking to Allen  
“Speech”  
‘Thinking’

Last in TPA:

The rest of the group filed out the dining room as America carried a pouting Angel downstairs, before trudging slowly up the stairs to their rooms, jet lag starting to full hit them.  
\--------------  
England closed his door behind him, relaxing slightly as he placed his suitcase on the bed, unpacking some of his clothes and placing them into the drawers and closet in the room. He would never admit it to America- Alfred-, but the room was excellently designed, almost like one of his London homes. In fact, it was so well done that England highly doubted Alfred designed any of their rooms like he claimed to have. When did that adorable colony he raise become such a liar and obnoxious git? Everyone knows the git didn’t have enough brain cells and skills to avoid making the guest rooms overly American, so he must have hired a designer and lied, that’s why he acted odd today, the git couldn’t be serious if his life depended on it, thus the false behavior. And that child. The whole point of coming to America’s house in the first place was to lay low while the rooted out and exterminated this group bent on exposing the world’s biggest secret: us, and America will be the one to blow our cover when his little American brat blabs like the little child she is, children can’t keep secrets, especially not of this magnitude.

‘Damn that irresponsible bastard, he’s going to ruin us!’ scowled England furiously as he slammed about his room going about his nightly routine.  
\-------------  
Midnight  
A lone shadow crept noiselessly down the hallway of the second floor to the end of the hall, quietly tapped a pattern by the wall, and slid as equally silent through the door that closed behind with barely a click, never noticing the sharp brown eyes that watched and analyzed from the shadows in the hall.

Welcome to American Boot Camp...Not Really

Aiyaa! Being surrounded by childish Western nations, including the stalker Russian, was not what the brown-eyed Chinese man had expected a week ago. But now here he was in the worst of the Western nations’ domicile: America. That blond child had always been a thorn in his side rising quickly like his sweet Japan, yet different in that he flaunted his power and strength around, pretending to be a so called hero to the rescue for other countries, nosing into the business and causing more problems instead. If it wasn’t for being a useful trading partner for the Republic of China, he and many other nations would gleefully bring the cocky nation down to learn his rightful place.

However, right now he has to deal with this new dilemma, the possible exposure of them being personifications. Really, this entire situation seemed odd, as the only ones given information on who they truly were, were their bosses and military generals when in times of war; no mortals anywhere in the world since the start of human civilization had come even close to wondering about their existence, much less threaten to expose them. That’s how well they kept themselves secret.

Taking a final glance at his (though he would die before he told the American) rather pleasant room, China walked out his room, only to see Germany with a neatly dressed Japan next to him as well as a clingy Italy on his arm.

“Ah, good morning Ludwig, Feliciano, and Kiku, aru. Did you all have a pleasant sleep, aru?”

“Yes, good morning. Did you have a good night’s rest as well Wang-san?”

“Fine as well. Now, what are we supposed to do for breakfast, aru? Do we go wake the idiot or make our own, I bet he purposely forgot to tell us to make us suffer until he wakes, probably at noon. What a horrible host, aru.”

All of a sudden, Italy perked up and started sniffing the air before smiling, “Someone’s cooking food, it’s not pasta, but it still smells good.” Leading the way down the stairs to where they remembered the kitchen to be, taking a moment to figure out the glass door before they finally halted at the sight before them (this seemed to be happening with more frequency). Last night when America said he cooked dinner, most were in high doubts that an American could truly cook, especially a meal as delicious as dinner last night.

But there in the kitchen dispersing all doubts stood America in gray sweats and a slightly damp dark gray shirt with a towel around his neck, showing that he had probably showered earlier after a workout. In front of him, four of the six burners were lit, one with a pan full of bacon and sausage sizzling happily, another pan with fluffy yellow scrambled eggs, a third filled with hash browns that were in the process of being plated by the blond, and in the final pan, two of what appeared to be thick, round crepes, next to a bowl of similar pale white mix with a ladle inside, presumably for pouring more mixture into the pan.

However, the main thing that halted the former trio plus China was the young boy the same age as Angel and and almost a miniature America except with one red eye and blue eye, just like Angel. They watched from the doorway as the boy left the dining room towards the oven beneath the stove where he pulled out muffins that quickly filled the room with their appealing aroma.

Ding

Starting at the noise, they turned to the far end of the kitchen away from the door where the noise of the disturbance came from. In that corner at the end of the counter was the refrigerator with double doors, sleek and stained steel. On the counter right next to the fridge was a microwave as well as one of those new Sodastream© machines and a toaster with four slides containing freshly toasted wheat and white bread that was quickly yanked out and placed onto a plate by America. Turning around to continue cooking his lovely pancakes, American raised an eyebrow at seeing the four crowding around his kitchen door.

“Morning guys, breakfast is almost done, you can make your plate.” said America as he flipped the last pancake and then slid it onto the empty plate beside him before scooping up some more of the mixture into the pan.

“Um, Alfred?” questioned Italy. “I think your crepes are a little too thick, though how one messes up crepes that badly I don’t really get, but if you want me to fix them, my crepes are really good, though they’re not as good as Big Brother France.” finished Italy.

Giving a brief tight smile towards the brunet, America closed his eyes as he went back to cooking and flipping his pancakes.

“Actually, Feliciano, can I call you Feli, it’s easier to say. And by the way, these aren’t crepes, they’re pancakes, or you can call them flapjacks, same thing. They are a delicious concoction from the North American mind, way better than any silly crepe. They’re the same as waffles, but there’s that texture difference that I won’t get into. Anyway, enough chatting, breakfast is practically done, so go ahead and make a plate; we’ve put out fresh OJ, grape juice, milk, coffee, and tea.”

“Excuse me, Alfred, who was that boy? I thought you only had one child?” said Germany while Italy replied, “Ve, I don’t really mind being called Feli, but crepes and pasta are the most delicious foods.”

By now ignoring the questioning German and his Italian sidekick, America finished the rest of the pancake batter while they mystery boy came back into the kitchen, also ignoring the nations near the door.

“Mr. Jones, the table is set up for breakfast, do you need anything else before I eat?”

“Yeah, can you go and announce to those still in their rooms that breakfast is ready? That’d be greatly appreciated, and thanks.” said America as he started poking and prodding Germany, Italy, Japan, and China towards the dining room with his large stack of pancakes.

 

________________________________________________________________________

Walking up the spiral staircase, mystery boy walked up and down the hall, noting which doors were still silent inside before he finally halted in the middle of the hall. Pulling an item out of his hoodie pocket, he turned it around in his hands before holding it above his head and pulling its trigger.

“HONK!! HONK! HOONNNK!!!” blared the air horn.

Thuds and shouts of alarm came from all the rooms as nations jolted from their warm beds wide awake.

Slamming his door open in outrage, England started his tirade, his accent coming out thicker in his anger and fatigue, “AMERICA, YOU BLOODY YANK! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK- who are you?” said a shocked England towards the mystery boy.

“One, I’m not America. Two, an asshole like you shouldn’t be talking that way to Mr. Jones, especially when he’s hosting you in his home. Three, you really suck as a ‘covert’ spy, if you blew your cover within 24 hours. If this location had been infiltrated, you yelling a nation’s name would’ve confirmed everything. Anyway, I’m to tell you that Mr. Jones has made breakfast, so come downstairs.” Mystery boy aimed his last sentence at those coming out their rooms to find the cause of the disturbance, now chuckling at the embarrassed Englishmen.

Flushing red, England opened his mouth to scold the boy on how to properly treat his elders, only to find that the brat had already left.

“Ohonhon, look at that. Angleterre is speechless from being scolded by a little boy. How pathetic.” smirked France and backed up with agreement by other laughing nations gathered around.

“Frog, just shut the hell up and get dressed, no one wants to see you in that garish thing you call night clothes this early in the morning, bloody wanker.” muttered the shorter blond as he slammed the door of his room in order to change.  
_____________________________________________________________________________

By the time the remaining nations finally gathered in the kitchen, America was back in the kitchen, this time washing dishes with a cheerful humming.

“Breakfast is out on the dining room, they’ve been told they can’t have seconds until you guys eat, so hurry.” 

England stormed up to America, finger jabbing into the taller blonde's chest. “Alfred, I’m appalled at your inability to keep secrets, especially the most important secret in the world, that you told to two CHILDREN! Which by the way, one of your brats- plural, not singular like you said- has the worst manners I’ve ever seen! I’ve never been so insulted in my life, I thought I raised you better, but no, instead you turned out horrible and then raised another horrible, delinquent child just like YOU! I have half a mind to paddle both of your backsides until the disrespect is spanked…out of....you? A-A-Alfred?”

The entire time England had been talking (read: yelling his face red), America had remained silent with a smile on his face. The more England talked, the tighter America’s face became, until it was similar to one of Russia’s psychotic ‘I’m pissed’ smiles: tightly closed eyes, manic grin from ear to ear, teeth bared in almost a snarl. Actually, the American’s entire stance had drastically changed and his aura felt even more dangerous than Russia, merely for the fact that the aura felt completely sane, not insane and predictable like Russia. It was as if another person had taken America’s place within moments, eyes now cracked open in slits as he spoke in a slightly deeper voice.

“Hypocritical bastard. How dare you accuse me of bad parenting when you weren’t even around to play parent. At the very least, I was there for my kids in their childhood, they know I’m their father; you were the one off gallivanting playing pirate and fucking Francis for years while you left me all alone to fend for myself, fleeing from my own people due to my inability to age. You wonder why all your colonies rebelled and left, when you’re the reason why. You can’t say anything about my parenting until you take a damn good look at your own!”

Panting from his angry outburst, America glared at England before swiftly leaving the room and towards the stairs, his feet pounding up and then above their heads before a door slammed and then there was silence.

Downstairs, an awkward silence surrounded the nations, all avoiding looking at England. 

A slow clapping attracted all of their attention towards the main cause of this morning’s argument, the mysterious boy that looked so much like a younger America.

“Good job countries, you’ve managed to irritate Dad yet again, by insulting one of his children within the hearing of said child.” drawled the boy’s smooth and slightly accented voice. “Either you truly are as stupid as I thought you were, or your cruel, primitive mind has no limits, constantly insulting your hosts that let you intrude on our peaceful home out of the goodness.”

Unfortunately, or fortunately for the nations, they stopped listening after the boy’s second sentence, stumped into silence (this seems to be a common trend) yet again.

“Dad!?” England screeched.

“Otou-san? Alfred-san?” muttered Japan, who now had an oncoming migraine.

“Ohonhon, looks like little Alfred’s all grown up now, with two kids, who’s the unlucky woman?”

“Da, where is the poor bitch that was forced to carry the Amerikan’s spawn?” snickered Russia. “The stupid pig should’ve known better than to get some silly mortal girl pregnant, the offspring is never as strong, and while they live longer than a mortal, they still die rather quickly. It’s rather pathetic, even for Amerika.”

Russia would have continued his tirade, but he was harshly stopped by a punch to the solar plexus that sent him flying out the kitchen, across the living room, and into the wall with a big crack. Usually, the Russian would’ve been able to take hits, but that hit was the strongest he’d ever felt, and he’d been hit by America on a furious rampage.

Shaking his head of dust and bits of plaster, Russia glanced up expecting to see an angry America, startling at the sight of the female American spawn frowning at him as she shook her right hand of any lingering pain.

“I don’t really appreciate someone slandering Father, myself, or my brother, even if they’re esteemed guests.” said Angel as she walked into the living room amidst shocked stares.

“Where did you come, aru?” spluttered China.

“Hmm? Weeell, I came up when I heard Daddy slamming doors, and then when I heard what Mr. Braginsky was saying, I got so mad I...kinda sorta….hit him. I didn’t mean to, honestly, but what he said wasn’t very nice.” huffed a pouty Angel, crossing her arms as she stood next to her still unknown brother who was glaring at everyone.

‘She’s definitely America’s kid. There’s no doubt about it.’ flashed through the minds of the gathered nations.

Russia however, eyes narrowed in suspicion at America’s children, was quickly analyzing the oddities before him.

‘These children are odd; even being America’s child she should have half his strength, yet that punch was one of America’s at his strongest. Either America has been holding back this entire time (an absurd notion for that idiot to successfully accomplish), or the more likely, these children weren’t a human/ nation hybrid like they originally thought.’ 

Russia tended to love puzzles and mysteries, cracking them open to further examine them, and now this stay at America’s house presented him with a wonderful puzzle to dissect. Already excited at the prospect of breaking down the secrets within the American household, he started his plan immediately.

“I’ve noticed that you change the way you address Amerika. Why is that?” Angel looked back at the Russian, distracted from taking blackmail of the nations’ faces. 

“Oh, that’s an easy question. Since people tend to get suspicious when we say that he’s our dad due to his outward age, we try to make it a force of habit to call him Alfred or Mr. Jones depending on the story we come up with. The problem though, is that instinct is for outside the house, so the moment we’re inside it’s different, and since you guys are here, we slipped. By the way, the story we’re going with now is that our parents died in a tragic accident that we don’t like to talk about and that Daddy, a distant relative of ours, recently adopted us and moved to the country for a change of scenery while working a government job.”

“You sound very experienced with matters like this, if I may ask, how old are you?” Lithuania piped into the semi-interrogation Russia started. Spinning around to glare at the questioning brunet that flinched under her glare that was reminiscent to her other father’s glare (not that the Lithuanian knew that).

“Excuse me! It’s not polite to ask a lady her age, I’m insulted.” Huffing at the gall of men, she turned her nose up and stiffly walked over and up the stairs, announcing that she was going to get America.

All eyes returned back to the other child, only to find that he was on the couch flipping through channels with a weird gray alien sitting next to him, slurping a jumbo soda from one of those American gas stations they’d seen on the way to America’s.

A sweatdrop appeared over their heads. ‘ When did the alien get here and how long have they been there without anyone noticing?’

Germany walked over to the boy’s side of the couch and coughed politely in order to gain the boy’s attention. Eyes flicked in his direction obviously annoyed, but Germany pushed onward, ignoring his own annoyance at the boy’s impolite behavior.

“To get this interrogation done and over with, I’ll make this short. What’s your name, age, and current location of your mortal mother, if she is alive.”

Eyes firmly glued at the TV, the boy answered in a bored voice, still ignoring them. 

“My name’s Luke and I’m Angel’s twin.”

“Your age?” demanded Germany.

“Same as Angel’s you idiot, I just said that we’re twins, and you already heard what she said about that. Anything else is not your concern so kindly, shove off.” said Luke, who promptly flipped Germany the bird.

“Lucifer Anthony Jones, I did not just see you flip the bird!”

An angry America came down the steps, glaring at his son as he grabbed the TV remote, turned the TV off, and placed his hand on his hip; unknowingly resembling the picture of an angry mother so much that the countries that had known their mothers instinctively flinched before shaking their heads in confusion.

Luke flinched as well at the sight before looking down, twiddling his thumbs as he mumbled something under his breath.

“Well? Am I going to get an answer, or are you going to stare at the floor all day?”

Shuffling his feet a bit, Luke hesitated before standing up. “I apologize for my actions and behaviors towards our guests.”

America sighed before turning around to glare at a silently snickering Angel who stopped immediately. 

“Angel, stop patronizing your brother,” Luke stuck his tongue out at Angel behind America’s back. “and Luke, we’re going to talk about this later, so stick that tongue back into your mouth.” finished America without even turning around.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, anger gone, America turned his attention to the silent nations in the room, flashing his Hollywood smile at them.

“Anyway, the kids will behave as long as you guys do and these are my only kids, I swear. Oh, and my neighbors, the Johnsons, invited us to a summer BBQ party, and I told her I was bringing guests since you guys will probably want to get out sooner or later.”

“That sounds nice Mr. Jones, when is the party?” said Lithuania.

“At six tonight and it’s ten right now, so we have a little over five hours to show you the rest of the house, the outside property, and then get ready for the part. Tony dude, totally didn’t see you there, how’s things going?” said America in one breath as he effortlessly switched his attention towards the alien drinking soda on the couch. 

“Fucking fuck fucking fuck fuck fucking.”

“Cool dude, hey by the way, how’s progress on the project you’re working on?”

“Progressing according to schedule. Minor difficulties. Fucking limey!” Tony spat his last line towards England, who was grimacing unpleasantly at the little alien. For reasons unknown to him, that freaky, vulgar, little alien had hated him from their first meeting and thus always cursed at him.

“That’s great, so A.A.A.W.D. is in it’s beginning final stages I’m so excited!”

“M is also progressing well, X will soon be able for implantation, thus the success of project MP. Die limey bastard!” 

Tony stated calmly as he pulled out a ray gun and aimed it at England, who promptly started freaking out at the sight. America bounded in front of Tony in alarm.

“Whoa, whoa! Tony, dude, what did I say about pulling the ray gun?”

“Not to.”

“And what did you do?”

“Pulled it out.”

“Not cool dude, I’m not buying you any junk food for a week.”

“ A week? You’re punishing him for one bloody week when he was about to murder me? What the hell Alfred!” A scowling England jumped into the conversation at this point.

“Cool your jets Artie, you’re still alive. Now, are you guys gonna eat breakfast or not, cause I wanna finish this tour before prepping for the party.”

Feeling rather uneasy at sharing living space with a gun-happy alien, and later going down near his lair, the nations trudged into the kitchen to finally eat.


	6. Interlude

Disclaimer: Hetalia: Axis Powers belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya except for my OCs.

“Allen speaking”  
America speaking to Allen  
“Speech”  
‘Thinking’

Note, Please Read:  
Referring America as Alfred in this chapter! It’s supposed to be Allen POV, but...it’s not. A friend suggested I do a interlude between the America going up and then later back down the stairs, so I did. The next chapter is halfway done though so don’t worry. Also, for some people, this would be considered M. I doubt that, but if it makes you uncomfortable, you know where the exit button is,...right?

Last in TPA:

“Cool your jets Artie, you’re still alive. Now, are you guys gonna eat breakfast or not, cause I wanna finish this tour before prepping for the party.”

Feeling rather uneasy at sharing living space with a gun-happy alien, and later going down near his lair, the nations trudged into the kitchen to finally eat.”  
______________________________________________________________________________

“How dare that fucking asshole say that about my son! Damn it though, I can’t believe I lost control like that. I knew how much of a hypocritical bastard he’d be, but I shouldn’t have broken character, this is too goddamn important for me to start screwing up when we’re so close, it’ll only make them suspicious.” muttered Allen as he furiously stalked out of one of the rooms created within Alfred’s mindscape. 

They made a maze within the mindscape, one that only Alfred and Allen truly knew their way around, (though not due to lack of trying on Angel and Luke’s part) thus they called their labyrinth Veron. Every night, all the buildings were moved around by whim of their subconscious, and all the doors interconnected to each other, making the ability to enter one room and exit another fifty feet away in one step an ease. 

The room Allen had just left was the change room, aptly named for whoever is in charge of Alfred’s body. It was a rather plain room, with hardwood flooring and dull gray slate covering the walls, and absent of furniture; a rather drab place with the exception of the far end wall from the door. Instead of a normal wall was what appeared to be a mirror instead, encompassing the entire wall. However, if one was to touch the mirror, they would feel like pushing through a gelatinous substance. By placing a hand, foot, head, or entire body, Alfred or Allen could easily take control and switch control on that body part. This room had been there for as long as they both could remember, originally as a pool in the ground, before slowly evolving into a wall in different house settings throughout time. It was the first of the rooms and proof that no matter what, there was always supposed to be an Allen and Alfred.

Usually, the change room was used for times of great stress like war, or when Alfred couldn’t stand to deal with the real world anymore. They no longer foolishly switched control for fun like they did as children, thanks to drownings, witch burnings,and lynching by their own people because of their altered appearances.

Within an hour, their appearance changes to match their mental ones, and apparently, a short blond blue-eyed child turning into a slightly taller child with dark blond hair and red eyes was ‘a sign of demonic possession’ and should be eliminated. Luckily nothing really scarred, but whatever did, Allen forced onto his mental and physical body as punishment for putting Alfred in harm’s way. That and his desire to leave his sweet, precious Alfie unblemished.

That’s why as Allen left the change room and towards the lake for a cool down, had there been a passerby, they would have happily drowned in their drool at the sight of Allen in only his boxers, complete with washboard abs and rippling muscles. With all the deadly feline grace of a predator, various scars littered the tan skin including rather large ones on his chest, back, and forearms, giving him a dangerous aura. He dove into the water with barely a ripple, doing random stunts and tricks until-

“Allen!”  
______________________________________________

Alfred stomped off towards the lake where he sensed Allen. He knew Allen didn’t mean to actually take charge, Alfred would’ve done the same thing (no one talks about his children that way), but they couldn’t have the nations get suspicious this close to the end and hinder the plan; breaking character like that hinders the plan! That’s why he had to go vent at Allen and lecture him about his behavior, all the while ignoring any tricks he probably- son of a...that- that bastard!

Alfred’s mouth was suddenly dry, and whatever blood not darkening his cheeks quickly headed south, and Alfred faintly wondered if one could die from a bloody nose, blushing, and erection all at once, due to the sight before him.

Allen was striding out the water in nothing but dripping wet dark blue boxers that clung enticingly to his firm thighs and ass, also heavily emphasizing a rather large bulge between his legs. Water glistened off of Allen’s sun kissed skin as Alfred’s eyes roved over the display of muscles and stolen scars that under normal circumstances would guilt him, but now only worked further towards Allen’s dangerous aura and arousing him.

“Alfred?”

Alfred’s eyes snapped back up to Allen’s, a slight tremble coursing through his body at the darkened gaze filled with barely restrained lust, the tremble becoming nearly uncontrollable as Allen got closer, prowling towards Alfred like a jungle cat, eyes fixated on its prey. 

“Alfie, what’s wrong?” Allen practically purred as he wrapped long, scarred arms around Alfred’s waist, tugging Alfred until only inches remained. “You sounded so angry a minute ago.”  
“Th-That’s because I am angry. We’re supposed to stay in charac-ahh-ter, w-we have a plan to follo-oooh. Al, knock it off!” Alfred whimpered as Allen continued to nibble and lick at his ear and neck, rutting against Allen and clinging closer when he did something distracting with his tongue.

“But why, we’re both stressed and extremely horny, so why can’t we have a little fun and get rid of some of that stress?” murmured Allen as a hand that had been teasingly trailing the edge of Alfred’s pants, occasionally dipping down, abruptly plunged down to firmly grasp the short blonde's cock. Smirking at the low guttural moan coming from Alfred and the way the blonde seemed to unravel underneath his expert hands.

Glazed sky blue eyes looked at him through hooded lids before Allen felt determine hands yank his boxers down to grab his fully erect cock, already heavily leaking precum. Thrusting harshly into those slightly calloused hands, Allen tugged Alfred into a fierce kiss, sadly swallowing up the delicious whimpers and groans as they jerked each other to completion. Their tongues slid and slipped against each other, dancing across sensitive spots as if they’ve been doing it for centuries. They broke apart only for breath, and then dove right back in to get a taste of the other. Panting heavily, Allen rested his forehead on a trembling Alfred.

“I want to fuck you so badly right now Alfred. I want to shove my aching cock into that sweet, tight ass of yours and pound you until all you can think about is me. until I paint your insides with my seed and mark you so much that those stupid countries will finally know who you belong to.” Allen whispered huskily into Alfred’s ear. 

“Now, who do you belong to?” 

Shivering with need from Allen’s words, Alfred faster into Allen’s tight hands, mumbling incoherently.

“Who do you belong to?” demanded Allen as his grip became nearly painful. Gasping at the mixture of pain and pleasure, Alfred finally replied, practically sobbing at the overwhelming heat and need for release from Allen’s hand.

“Y-Yours, I belong to you! Only you Allen! I-I-I’m close, so close!”

“Then come.” With one final jerk, Alfred came hard with Allen’s name on his lips, back slightly arched as he rode through his orgasm. Allen quickly followed after watching Alfred come undone, tugging the both of them to the ground to enjoy their post-coital bliss.

“Um, Papa, Daddy, are you done?” squeaked a voice from a few feet away.

Both males snapped up in shock, the moment of bliss gone as they stared in growing horror at the flushing Angel with her eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped tightly over her ears, a tactic that didn’t work judging by her red face.  
“Oh my gosh, sweetie I’m so sorry!” yelped Alfred as he frantically zipped himself up and rubbed the remaining cum off into the lake.

He picked up Angel and she automatically rested on his hip, clinging to him like a baby monkey while Alfred soothingly rubbed her back, all the while muttering apologies for possibly scarring her. Moments later strong arms wrapped firmly around the two, and the trio simply stood there, soaking up the moment while valiantly trying to forget what had happened earlier.

Humming thoughtfully, Allen finally broke the silence. “ So little monkey, what brings you here?”

Mock frowning at the endearment, Angel pretended to think hard. “Well, I was going to tell you that Luke has been left alone with the pesky, idiotic nations that are in interrogation mode, but I don’t think I will after that traumatizing moment in my life. What happened to the sock warning?”

Alfred spluttered in shock. “How do you know about that?”

“Uncle Tony.”

“Of course. Well, we need to go intervene with the nations and your brother, so say bye to your father.” Angel shifted in his arms so that she could give him her customary hug and goodbye kiss on the cheek.

“Bye Papa, see you later.”

“See you my little monkey, Alfie.” said Allen as he watched the two walk away, listening to their conversation as they went.

“Daddy, when will this charade game end? I wanna make them pay for all the things they’ve done. Violently.”

“Soon Angel, this game will be over soon, we merely have to be patient. I know that’s a lot to ask for, but can you be patient for me, just a little longer?”

“Ok Daddy.”

“That’s my girl.”

The conversation faded away and left Allen smirking as he headed through doors to his planning room. He was so proud of his family.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Hetalia: Axis Powers belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya except for my OCs.

 **“Allen speaking”**  
_America speaking to Allen_  
“Speech”  
‘Thinking’

_Last in TPA:_

_“Cool your jets Artie, you’re still alive. Now, are you guys gonna eat breakfast or not, cause I wanna finish this tour before prepping for the party.”_

_Feeling rather uneasy at sharing living space with a gun-happy alien, and later going down near his lair, the nations trudged into the kitchen to finally eat.”_

* * *

 

“Okay so down here we have my office, the storage room, and Tony’s room, so you probably shouldn’t go in there. There’s actually not a lot of interesting things in here so we can just…. hey Feli, what the hell are you doing?...Don’t touch those they’re fragile!” yelled a flustered America as he snatched the old wooden toy soldier from the curious Italian’s hands before worriedly examining the toy for new scratches, sighing in relief when there was a lack of damage. He finally remembered his audience when the doll was snatched from his hands and tightly grasped in the hands of a shocked Englishman who kept staring from America to the toy and back again in disbelief.

“What?” snapped America, disliking the hopeful look of longing on England’s face.

“You still have them? The dolls, I mean. Even after all this time?”

“Yeah, just for sentimental value of course. Kinda like my first gun I used in war, see! It still has that massive scratch from the time you charged and almost killed me.”

Everyone but America and England sweat-dropped at the casual way America responded. Clearing his throat, a blustering England muttered, “Oh, of course, silly me- thinking that you still cared, oh well never mind.”

America looked on with confusion, before shrugging and blaming it on an English thing, watching the shorter blonde wander away to look at the rest of the storage room, doll clutched tightly in his hand. The rest of the nations also wandered about (without his permission, what the hell!), touching and moving things about as if they owned it. America silently glared and started ranting towards Allen who was doing his best to both soothe Alfred and watch over the twins that decided they didn’t want to be around the “idiotic countries that need to be squished like gnats”.

“Ano, Alfred-san what are these capsules for, if you don’t mind me asking?” Japan question interrupted Alfred’s mental ranting as he focused to answer, ignoring the mental sigh of relief Allen gave.

The capsules in question could have only been two or three feet in length and looked to be straight out of an old American 70’s science fiction movie, the thick glass allowing the nations to see inside, the dried remains of a clear pink substance along the bottom.

“Oh, those old things? The twins had watched one of my old science fiction films with aliens, and they thought it’d be pretty cool to replicate this one scene in the movie where the aliens come out these chambers, so they asked Tony to make them some so they could reenact the scene and I kept them as mementos.”

Thinking it odd for children to do something like that, especially since the capsules were so small, they all chalked it up to being an American thing and moved on,though Russia made a mental note of another odd thing about America and his children. Finally, the nations got tired of exploring the storage room, or they started to sense the rising irritation coming from America and dutifully climbed back up the stairs into the living room, which was lacking the presence of Luke and Angel.

“Okay so since we’re going out tonight, no one is on dinner duty,but we need to decide today who's going to make breakfast and dinner for tomorrow for those who need advanced prep or any last minute ingredients I don’t already have. Now do we have any volunteers or will I have to pick?”

Silence filled the room as the nations exchanged glances, no one stepping forward. America sighed and pulled out his smartphone and picked one of his many useless apps made for the sole purpose of making random picks (think Spin the Bottle), the nations’ names already plugged in, and pressed the spin button twice. Arthur Kirkland and Honda Kiku popped up.

"Looks like Artie and Kiku are cooking, you two can choose who's doing what before you check the kitchen for any missing supplies, ignoring the whitening faces of those familiar with English cooking.

“Okay, now for the very last part of the tour!” said America as he headed towards the front door, motioning for everyone to follow him outside.

Breathing in the warm, humid air, they trudged around the hill to the back and then further down to the glass building they saw yesterday. Getting closer to the building, they could see gym equipment, a pool, and even what looked to be a Jacuzzi inside. America tugged out a set of keys from his back pocket and entered.

“These glass walls on the exterior are rather strong, military grade stuff, so there’s no worry about it breaking. The more private rooms within, like the showers and changing rooms, are permanently darkened for privacy purposes, but there’s panels in here that can bring down the blinds if you’re still uncomfortable with the open windows. It’s usually locked from 9PM to 5PM unless you have the key, but it’s a pretty safe area so I wasn’t very worried about having to consistently lock it up during the day. Well, that concludes the tour, so let’s get ready, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the massive, major delay on updating this story. I feel like much revision has to be done to this story, as it has been over five years since I first started writing, and my writing style feels very different than when I first started. I just want to let all my readers know that this story is not on haitus, and once I've revamped it, I will finish this story.


End file.
